


Ulfric's Assassin

by SpunkyGayMonkey (Demonic_Moriarty)



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:24:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 14,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4411964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demonic_Moriarty/pseuds/SpunkyGayMonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So uh yeah, this happened without my consent? Like I don't usually even read slow burns, and I usually write porny things. So this..? Just happened? I don't know how good it is? And I apologize profusely.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Zalmon

**Author's Note:**

> So uh yeah, this happened without my consent? Like I don't usually even read slow burns, and I usually write porny things. So this..? Just happened? I don't know how good it is? And I apologize profusely.

Zalmon-

 

Zalmon sighed and looked down at the unconscious Nord. He knew better than to try anything but wait for the city guards. 

For Windhelm guards ran at him, weapons drawn. All his instincts said to fight but he remained as still as a statue, barely breathing. 

"You! Altmer! You have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people! What say you in your defense?"

"He shouted racial slurs and then challenged me, I did not mean to cause him to lose consciousness," Zalmon said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"This is Rolff Stone-Fist, brother of Galmar Stone-Fist. The Jarl's housecarl and second in command," one of the guards said. 

"Oh of course, I just cannot catch a break, can I?" Zalmon shook his head and crossed his arms. "If you wish to take me to prison, then so be it. I will not be there long." 

"He should be taken to Galmar, have him decide what's best for this," the guards conversed among themselves, never taking their eyes off the Altmer 'prisoner'.

In the end they did end up taking him to Galmar Stone-Fist, who was conversing with Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak about Whiterun. 

He bristled slightly at the thought of them sieging Whiterun. He was Thane there, Balgruuf was his Jarl, his friend. 

When the guards shoved him towards the two men they silenced and watched him. 

Rolff was set down gently for the two men to see. 

"Who did this?!" Galmar snarled. 

"Oh yes, they would be me," Zalmon smiled and waved. 

The man with the bearskin, Galmar, drew his battle axe. He raised his hand to swing when a gloved hand gently touched his arm. 

Everyone looked over to see Ulfric standing and watching Zalman. 

"You seem familiar," Ulfric's eyes scanned him. 

"Oh yes, we've already met," Zalmon mock bowed. "Only back then I was in rags and bindings. Now! Look at me!" He spun around to show off his full set of Stalhrim Light Armor that he had crafted. 

"You were at Helgen," Ulfric nodded.

"Yessir!" Zalmon grinned cockily. 

Galmar raise his axe over his head and shouted, "That is my brother!" 

Zalmon didn't flinch, just turned his gaze at the man, "He challenged me." 

Galmar squinted at him and growled. 

"Enough, old friend. Take your brother and let him rest," Ulfric dismissed the guards as well. 

Zalmon looked back at the Jarl and cocked his head. 

"You are not like other Altmer I have met," Ulfric stood before him, just slightly shorter than Zalmon.

"That's because I am a High Elf, the Altmer are dead," Zalmon shrugged. 

"You are either a very good spy..." Ulfric crossed his arms, "or you really have no feelings towards being Altmer." 

Zalmon just shrugged again and his eyes scanned the room. Taking in every detail, the best route to sneak towards the throne without being seen. 

Then he noticed the Court-wizard, his eyes tracked his movements carefully. Something seemed off about him, but he doesn't know what. 

Ulfric clears his throat and he snaps back to look at the Jarl. 

"You may leave, but I suggest not going far, I will have questions," Ulfric waved his hand dismissively.


	2. Ulfric

Ulfric-

 

Ulfric returned to his throne and watched the High Elf don his glowing, blue helmet. The horns gave it a rather dragon like feel. 

He never got the Elf's name, normally they are just offered, but the Elf just joked and smiled. 

He remembered the chill he felt when those bright, Amber eyes locked with his. They were so open, and warm. While also they calculated every moment. 

He thought about how his eyes scanned the room, taking every detail. How they tracked Wuunferth across the hall. 

How when they were turned on Galmar then turned cold and hard. 

He thought about the odd High Elf long after he had left the palace. His shaved head, showing all the old, jagged scars along his scalp. He was mostly curious about the claw slashes across the Elf's golden jaw. 

He felt powerful and dangerous but not regal, like most Altmer. But then again, he has explicitly said he was no Altmer. 

Ulfric sat at his throne, watching the doors, thinking about the curious elf with dragon eyes.


	3. Zalmon

Zalmon-

 

Zalmon looked at the horned helmet sitting on the bedside table in his room at The Candlehearth Hall. 

His wine was sweet and he was drunk. 

He grinned when he thought about the pretty Jarl. He grinned wider at the thought of the pretty Jarl in bed. Then laughed at the thought. 

The blonde Jarl, in all his regal furs, would never stoop so low as a simple elven assassin. Not when he treated the Dark Elves like stains on Skyrim. 

He shrugged, he wasn't planning on staying very long. He had only come to receive payment for killing Grelod the Kind. 

Sure, he knew that there would be repercussions for taking a Dark Brotherhood contract but he would cross that bridge when he got to it. 

His eyes then shifted to the plate the Arentino boy had given him as payment. He was sure he could sell it somewhere for a small profit. 

He sighed and continued drinking, letting time lose all relevance.


	4. Zalmon

Zalmon-

 

Ulfric had said he would have questions, so he was not surprised when guards showed up  
After that morning to drag him to the palace.

They presented him to the Jarl in his half dressed, hungover state. Then handed him the breastplate and bracers to his armor.

He threw a slightly flirtatious grin at the guard then quickly undid and redid the straps of his gear, adjusting so his shoulders fell into the worn, soft leather.

Ulfric just watched him with a bored, unimpressed look on his face.

"Sooo..." Zalmon rocked on his feet.

"My brother is barely conscious," Galmar snarled.

Ulfric kept his eyes on Zalmon, making his senses heighten. Every fiber of his being was on high alert.

"You claim he shouted racial slurs against you," Ulfric said, his voice a perfect mask of boredom.

"And challenged me," Zalmon nodded.

"He usually only yells slurs to the Grey Skins," Ulfric said.

Zalmon snarled and his eyes went from Amber to a bright, fiery gold, "If you have pointed ears you are in danger in this Gods forsaken city!"

Ulfric showed no reaction when Zalmon charged his throne.

The guards rushed to catch him when a voice shouted across the room.

"Zalmon? I've been looking for you! Got a message I'm supposed to deliver, your hands only," a courier strode across the room towards the elf.

Zalmon had stopped dead in his tracks, watching the Jarl closely. His muscles coiled tightly, ready to strike.

"Who's it from?" He asked slowly, eyes never leaving Ulfric's.

"Don't know, some weird guy in a hood," the courier offered the letter.

Zalmon took the folded parchment and the courier took his leave.

_**We know.** _

Zalmon stared down at the black handprint and started to feel a panic rising in his chest.

"I have to go," Zalmon said and bowed to the Jarl before fleeing from the palace. He ran to the inn and gathered his things, leaving the city behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the short chapters. I don't like dragging scenes out. Hence the multiple chapter update.


	5. Ulfric

Ulfric-

 

Ulfric's heart had yet to return to a normal beat after watching the elf flee from his palace and reportedly his city. 

"Wonder what that letter was," Jorleif mused. 

"Who cares, he's gone," Galmar grunted and left to see to his brother. 

Zalmon. The courier called him Zalmon. Peaceful and quiet. 

Zalmon was cocky and relaxed up until he wasn't. There was no warning before Ulfric was sure the elf would attack. 

Then that letter, seeing him go from relaxed, to hostile, to terrified in the span of seconds was unnerving. 

Ulfric was sure that if this elf would fight in his army they would win within months. 

"Find him," he told his steward. 

Jorleif nodded and rushed off to make arrangements. 

He didn't have the thought to be offended about his city being being called forsaken until he was retiring to his chambers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes Zalmon is Israeli for quiet and peaceful.


	6. Zalmon

Zalmon-

 

"You told me to kill. So I killed," Zalmon drawled, wiping his Dragonbone dagger clean with a cloth. 

"At least you can follow orders," the masked assassin said from her perch and tossed him a key. "Here, the key to the shack. I look forward to seeing you at home, Brother." 

Zalman just smiled, "I look forward to being a member of this family." 

"I'm sure you do," Astrid chuckled. 

With that, Zalmon was stepping out of the shack into the marshes. 

"Probably near Morthal," Zalmon muttered to himself. 

He walked through swamp for a while until he saw Morthal. And a company of Stormcloak soldiers. 

"Fuck, looks like he didn't like my departure," Zalmon unsheathed his danger and crouched in the bushes, moving silently towards the soldiers. 

"Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm requests his presence at the palace," one of the soldiers said behind their helmet. 

Jarl Idgrod just crossed her arms, "I haven't seen that boy in weeks. He passed through on his way to Solitude." 

He smiled, knowing she was lying for him. 

"Well if you see him, we urge you to inform us," a woman soldier said and they made their way away from the city. And Solitude. 

Once he felt good about it he left his cover and walked up beside Idgrod. 

"They've been asking every hold you're thane of," she sighed. 

"That's a lot of holds," Zalmon shifted and wrapped his arms around himself. "I have time."

"What did you do, boy?" Idgrod demanded. 

"Ah, I brawled with Stormcloak's, housecarl's brother for yelling racial slurs at me," Zalmon walked with his friend back to her longhouse. 

"And won," she nodded when he held the door for her. 

"And won," Zalmon confirmed. 

"Zalmon," Idgrod turned and stared him down, "stop running. Go to Windhelm and answer to Stormcloak." 

"Plan on it," Zalmon bowed his head to the Jarl. 

"Please, do be careful, Zalmon," Idgrod rested her hand on his shoulder. "I do actually care for you, boy."

"I know, I will," Zalmon kissed her wrinkled cheek, picked up his helmet, and started for Windhelm.


	7. Ulfric

Ulfric-

 

"We have yet to locate the elf," a soldier said from his place kneeling before Ulfric. "But we will not rest until we do." 

Ulfric sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Dismissed." 

They had been searching for Zalmon for a little under a month and he was starting to lose hope of ever finding the elf. 

"Someone should go tell them to get some rest," a teasing voice whispered directly beside his head. 

Ulfric jumped and turned to see a grinning elf staring back at him. 

"Sorry about the wait, I'm a very popular man," he glided to the front of the throne and gave an over exaggerated bow. "And sorry about my rudeness the last time we spoke. I received a letter I was not expecting for a long while yet." 

"Everything is under control now?" Ulfric drawled. 

"Why of course!" Zalmon smiled. 

"Good." Ulfric nodded. "I want you to fight for me."

Zalmon just continued to smile and he cocked his head slightly, "You have no clue who I am." 

"I don't understand," Ulfric furrowed his brow. 

"No no it's fine! I mean a racist fuck like you would only assume I would have to be a Nord!" Zalmon laughed. 

Ulfric just watched the man. 

"Oh darling," Zalmon purred. "I am the Dragonborn." 

Ulfric nearly choked on air as he stared down at the elf, "But you're an Altmer!" 

"Nah I'm just an elf, not Altmer," Zalmon corrected. 

"I do not believe you," Ulric decided. 

"Oh. Well, now that's just," Zalmon furrowed his brow. "Think fast!" 

Mul Qah Diiv

The elf's voice shook the floor beneath their feet and Ulfric barely had time to register before Zalmon was surrounded with glowing armor. 

Light flowed around the elf and he looked more dragon like than ever. 

"Dragon aspect," Zalmon said cooly. 

Galmar ran from one of the lower floors, "My Jarl!" 

Noticing Zalmon he swung his axe and everyone except the target gasped in surprise with the the axe bounced off the spirit armor. 

"Ooh I almost felt that!" Zalmon laughed as the armor shifted and faded, leaving just the elf standing before them again.

His eyes seemed brighter, glowing. Giving him an air of danger. But also the way his breathing faltered slightly made him seem frail. 

"I would still ask you to fight for me," Ulfric said. 

"With. Not for. I am not a tool," Zalmon stared him down as the glow dimmed. 

"My Jarl," Galmar protested. 

"Very well. It would be hard to see you as anything other than an equal," Ulfric nodded. "I would also like it if you stayed in the city."

Zalmon just nodded and bowed his head to Ulfric, clapping a fist over his heart, "My Jarl."


	8. Zalmon

Zalmon-

 

Zalmon closed the door to the room he had been shown to, on the upper floors of the Palace. 

"Fuck," he breathed. "Fucking shit." 

He slipped the small parchment from his pocket and read the words. 

What is life's greatest illusion?  
Innocence, my Brother.

He was supposed to go to the Brotherhood sanctuary in Falkreath. Meet the rest of the 'family'.

There was a knock at the door and he slid the parchment into the closest book. 

He swung the door open and met the eyes of the Jarl. 

"I have a task for you, Dragonborn," Ulfric stated. 

"Go figure," Zalmon stepped back and shut the door behind the Jarl. 

"We should go-" Zalmon cut the Jarl off. 

"Trust me no ones listening," a glimpse of illusion magic swirled around his fingertips. 

Ulfric nodded and clasped his hands behind his back, "The Jagged Crown."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have most of this story written so I don't know when a new chapter will be up. So it's all a SURPRISE! *confetti*


	9. Zalmon

Zalmon-

 

"Fuckind dead Nords," Zalmon grumbled and shoved the crown back in his pack as he saw the door to the sanctuary. 

He jogged up the to the door and pressed his hand against it. 

"What is life's greatest illusion?" It whispered. 

"Innocence, my Brother," Zalmon whispered back. 

"Welcome home," the door whispered and unlocked. 

The inside of the sanctuary was actually rather warm, even with the drafts. 

"It's about time," Astrid crossed her arms when she saw him. 

"Sorry, I had to deal with something in Winterhold," he shrugged. 

"Well I'm working on something big, go speak to Nazir," she waved him further in. 

He walked until he saw a pond and his heart started racing. He knew the feeling instantly and his eyes fell on the Word Wall. 

His whole body filled with a warmth as the low chanting drown out every other sound. His feet moved on their own and carried him to the wall. 

He felt the energy surround him and the word burned into his mind. 

Krii-Kill

He shook his head as the chanting died off and he lost the unnatural warmth. He focused all his energy and felt the raw power of a dragon's soul surround his knowledge of that particular word, carving it into his very soul. 

"Krii," he breathed.

He rested his warm head against the cold stone of the Word Wall and tried to calm his heart. This was a process he was very familiar with but it always left him shaking. 

His steps in towards Nazir were a bit sluggish and his eyelids drooped. 

When he spoke to Nazir it sounded like talking through water, everything said was fuzzy to his ears and he was grateful that Nazir wrote the three contracts down for him before dismissing him. 

The entire walk back outside was blurry and unremarkable. He soon realized that his was having such a hard time was because he used his last dragon soul to understand the Word. His own soul felt empty and cold. 

He hoped a dragon would attack on his walk back to Windhelm.


	10. Ulfric

Ulfric- 

 

Zalmon had been gone for an extended period of time and Galmar was convinced he took the crown for himself and ran. 

"It would be invaluable! Of course he took it and ran! I should have gone with!" Galmar was shouting. 

"I'm sure he just needed some time to-" Jorleif was cut off when the door creaked open slowly. 

Zalmon was obviously not well but he seemed to be doing everything in his power to appear fine. He walked towards them, twirling the crown on his finger. 

What worried the three men the most was that they could all hear his footsteps loud and clear. For a man like Zalmon to be heard before he is seen would mean something terrible happened. 

A cold fear spread through his chest at the thought. 

Zalman tossed the crown up and respectfully bowed his head. 

"No trouble?" Ulfric was sure his voice was shaking. 

"None at all," Zalmon looked up and grinned, but it, along with his eyes, were hollow and dead. 

"You're sure? You don't seem to good," Jorleif said and took a careful step forwards. 

Zalmon took a step back, "I'm fine. Just tired is all." 

"Go get some rest, I will have another task for you when you are better," Ulfric dismissed him and watched him try not to stumble to his room. 

"He is not well," Jorleif stated. 

"Maybe he got poisoned well getting the crown," Galmar offered. 

"Maybe he is just tired. But you should look into it, he is a valuable asset," Ulfric rose and let the crown fall into his pocket. 

His heart was racing and he had a strong urge to go check on the Elf. 

No one said anything when he left for his chambers.

No one said anything when he stopped and watched the door to Zalmon's room, wondering if he should knock but deciding better of it.


	11. Zalmon

Zalmon-

 

Zalmon laid under several furs, shaking violently. 

He always wondered if it would harm him to stop killing dragons, now that Alduin was dead. But something in his soul told him he had to keep going. 

He whimpered and contemplated just leaving to find a dragon. But if he went alone, then he had no guarantee of making it back. 

The thought of merely hiring someone for the sole reason of finding a single dragon seemed like a waste. And the guards weren't trained enough for it. 

The only two people he was sure would make it back from a dragon were Galmar and Jarl Ulfric. But Galmar would sooner laugh in his face and drink mead as his soul tore him into pieces. 

And the Jarl. He'd asked crazier things of Jarls before. But that was after they were his friends, not just his Jarls. 

He didn't think he could wait for Cosnach to receive a letter and make his way from Markarth. 

His only viable option seemed to be to ask the Jarl. He'd fucking beg if he had to, just to fix himself.

"No time like the present," he choked and did his best to look casual as he made his way to the Jarl's chambers.


	12. Ulfric

Ulfric- 

 

Ulfric sat at the foot of his bed and watched the flames in his fireplace. 

He couldn't sleep with the thought of Zalmon being ill. Not because of a quest he only agreed to because Ulfric asked. 

A soft knock on his door and the sound of someone stumbling drew his attention and he made his way to the door. 

"Who-" his voice died as he saw Zalmon leaning against the wall, sweating and shaking. "Dragonborn?" 

"I-I hate to dis-disturb you my J-Jarl," Zalmon stuttered. 

"What's wrong?" Ulfric wanted to reach out and comfort him. The cold dread spreading through his body once more. 

"I-I wouldn't ask t-this unless it was..." He trailed off and his head lulled back. "Unless it was important." 

"Ask what?" Ulfric was panicking inside his head. Was this his fault? Did he kill the Dragonborn? 

"I need you-" a cough racked through Zalmon's body and he whimpered softly. "Need you to hunt a dragon with me." 

Ulfric was confused. Zalmon was clearing gravely ill, why did he want to hunt dragons?!

Clearly understanding his confusion Zalmon chuckled, "The soul, I need its soul to help me." 

Ulfric was still confused, "Why not ask a hireling? There are plenty in the city." 

"I don't trust strangers to have my back against a dragon," Zalmon had stopped shaking for the time being but his voice was dull and weak. His breathing fast and shallow. 

"But you trust me?" Ulfric couldn't help but be pleased at gaining the trust of this elf. 

Zalmon nodded and closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked-" 

"Don't be ridiculous, you need help. You are my greatest asset," Ulfric stood taller and nodded. "Of course I will help." 

"Just...us..." Zalmon's head lulled forward again. "Don't trust...anyone else..." 

Ulfric wrapped an arm around the elf's waist and nearly carried him. The guards gave them a wide berth and didn't attempt to follow. 

He was silently rejoicing at finally touching the elf. Then berating himself and focusing on getting the elf out of the Palace. 

Zalmon had already been wearing his armor and Ulfric assumed the elf was armed. Ulfric never took his armor off after he retired to his chambers. 

The elf leaning against him was shaking again and mumbling in what sounded like dragon-tongue.

Once they were out of the city Ulfric easily lifted Zalmon onto a horse and mounted behind him, holding him up with one arm. 

The horse ran nonstop for what seemed like hours until Ulfric lost his patience and pulled off the road. He dismounted and gently brought Zalmon down, laying him on the ground. 

He looked up in the sky and Shouted. 

Fus Ro Dah

He waited for a few moments and Shouted again. He Shouted until his throat was raw and still no dragon appeared. 

A muffled moan came from the ground and he turned to see Zalmon slowly stand and look to the sky. 

Fus. Ro. Dah!

His shout sounded broken but still louder and stronger than Ulfric's. 

A few moments later a scream sounded and a dragon hovered, looking at the swaying elf. 

"Dovahkiin," the dragon hissed. 

Zalmon bared his teeth and growled. 

The dragon tried to fly way but Zalmon Shouted. 

Joor Zah Frul

The dragon screamed madly and trashed in the air. It's wings seemed to lock up and he crashed to the ground. 

Zalmon, seemingly regaining his strength leapt onto the dragon's back, slashing one of the wings so it couldn't take back to the skies. 

Ulfric snapped out of his amazement and charged the dragon, weapon drawn. 

For the most part the dragon ignored him in favor of trying to tear Zalmon off its back. 

The dragon and Zalmon took turns Shouting at each other until the dragon become slower. Giving Ulfric the chance he needed to drive his axe down against the dragon's skull, killing it. 

Zalmon jumped off the dragon, coated in blood. He opened his mouth to say something but froze as the dragon started thrashing. 

His mouth fell open and he screamed in pain. His skin started glowing a golden red, as if on fire from the inside, as the soul of the dragon absorbed into him. 

Falling to his knees and curling in on himself, the snow melted below him.

Ulfric's heart ached at the agonized screams tearing from Zalmon's throat. 

After several long, horrible seconds Zalmon's screams died down to pained whimpers, then he was silent. 

"Dragonborn?" Ulfric approached carefully. 

Zalmon easily rose to his feet and the swirling, glowing, golden eyes pinned him. It never escaped Ulfric that this elf was extremely deadly but he has never felt terrified of him. 

Zalmon bared his teeth and growled lowly. 

Instincts screamed that Ulfric should run. But he couldn't move. 

Zalmon stalked towards him. 

"Dragonborn," Ulfric tried to warn him off but just whispered. 

The elf stalked closer, hissing under his breath in dragon tongue. 

"Zalmon," Ulfric's voice returned and he was sure he sounded assertive. 

Zalmon jerked back and shook his head, his eyes returning to normal, "I...apologize, my Jarl."

"You are well, then?" Ulfric clasped his hands behind his back and squared his shoulders. 

"...yes..." Zalmon focused on his boots. 

Relief filled Ulfric and he just smiled, "Good, you're a very useful ally." 

He was sure he saw disappointment fly across Zalmon's face. 

"It appears our horse fled..." Ulfric sighed. 

"I'm used to walking," Zalmon said, still not looking at Ulfric. 

It was Ulfric's turn to be disappointed.


	13. Zalmon

Zalmon-

When they made it back to Windhelm the sun was rising and they were both practically dead on their feet.

Galmar met them at the palace, scowling.

"I don't want to hear it, Galmar," Ulfric warned and pushed past his housecarl.

Zalmon stayed silent and easily made his way back to his room. No one bothering him.

He sat at his desk, knowing that if Cosnach had been here none of this would have been a problem.

They had fought the last time they spoke. Cosnach didn't want him to go to Sovngarde to fight Alduin and was gone by the time he got back.

Zalmon had avoided Markarth after that. Not wanting to argue more with one of his closest friends.

Sighing he knew it was for the best to have Cosnach here. So he cut his loses and grabbed some parchment and started writing.

 

_Cosnach-_

_I regret not coming to you when I returned from Sovngarde. I cannot imagine what you thought happened to me, knowing you and your fears when I left._

_I would like to ask you to join me in Windhelm. I have joined Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak and I have recently come to realize that I need your assistance. Especially with dragons._

_I completely understand if you refuse. But please consider it, for me._

_Your old friend, Zalmon._

 

Zalmon folded the letter and made his way back out of the palace, finding a courier and sending him with the letter.

He was too wound up to go back to bed, even with his undeniable exhaustion. So he decided to go for a stroll.

He started down the stairs to the right of the palace, headed for the hall of the dead. Only to be stopped by a guard blocking his view of a dead body.

"Wow looks like someone had a bad night," Zalmon whistled.

"This is Susanna, from the Candlehearth Inn. She served me drinks a few nights ago," the guard looked back. "Gutted like all the rest."

"The rest? A serial killer? Man the guards here suck, remind me to invest in some better protection," Zalman teased.

"Hey! You try fighting a war and protecting a city!" The guard growled.

"Yeah yeah, how about I help out? Use a killer to catch a killer," Zalmon joked.

"Why don't you speak to the witnesses? I'm going to take a closer look at the body," the guard grunted.

One look at the people said they never saw a thing. But what he saw was a trail of blood.

"How about I follow this?" He called at the guard and casually strolled along the trail.

It lead him to a house in the far back corner of the city.

He crouched and slid a finger over the lock. He wasn't the greatest at locks but he could get where he needs to go. Usually.

Several broken lockpicks later and the door was open.

The house was empty and dust floated in the air.

A chest caught his eye, it seemed out of place. Like someone recently put it there.

Inside were flyers for 'The Butcher' and a journal. He skimmed through the journal and dropped in in his pack, moving further inside the house.

The first closet he threw open was just a closet. But his years as a thief and assassin made him weary of such things. So when he opened the second one to find it empty, he knocked on the back panel and slid it open.

Inside looked how he would imagine Sheogorath's play dates. Corpses littered the floor and a sacrificial altar.

He found another journal sitting on the altar. Skimming through it gave him more leads towards Wuunferth, the court wizard.

Leaving the secret room, something caught his eye.

A strange amulet was hidden under a stack of flyers.

It screamed Necromancy at him, and if he listened to the rumors about Wuunferth then he had an airtight case.

But it all seemed to perfect. The amulet, the journal. The trail? Why would someone who hadn't messed up yet leave a trail back to his lair?

His instincts said this was a setup. Something to throw suspicion off the actual killer.

Calixto's House of Curiosities was good with weird things. He'd strolled through the store once before.

His mind offered him that Calixto Corrium was one of the witnesses.

He jogged back and just barely caught Calixto.

"Wait, can you tell me about this amulet?" Zalmon handed over the skull shaped amulet.

"Hmm, looks like something for Necromancy. Might belong to Wuunferth, hear he's a necromancer," Calixto offered.

Zalmon furrowed his brow. Everything still seemed too perfect and it rubbed him the wrong way.

"Thanks..." He brushed passed the man and let his key just kinda fall into his hand.

"No problem!" Calixto said and made his way home.

Zalmon followed and perched outside until the house went dark. A quick glance said no one was around so he made his way inside and searched the building. Careful not to wake Calixto.

Upstairs was a locked chest and he slid the key inside.

Once the chest opened he found one more journal, linen wraps, and embalming tools.

The new journal gave all the information he needed to see that Calixto was the Butcher and had attempted to frame Wuunferth.

He silently made his way back to the Palace and quickly found Jorleif.

"Ah Dragonborn, you look much better," the steward smiled.

"And I feel much better as well. But I would like to speak to you, regarding The Butcher? I know who he is," Zalmon said and explained everything, offering the three journals.

"Hmm, you seem to have done better in mere hours than our guards have done in days," Jorleif contemplated. "We should take this to the Jarl."

"Ah yes, you do that..." Zalmon coughed. "I'm hoping to go back to bed..."

"But-" Jorleif just sighed and nodded.

Zalmon nodded and ran back to his room.

He quickly glanced at the Jarl, who was watching him, and sped up.

Once safely back in his room he sat against the door.

"Maybe I should have told Cosnach I almost tore the Jarl into tiny pieces," he sighed to himself and watched the sun continue rising.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way this is written it makes it seem like Zalmon spent a whole day in his room. But they actually got back just as the sun was beginning to rise. So he took a few hours until actual sunrise to deal with the butcher.


	14. Ulfric

Ulfric-

 

Ulfric wanted to kill someone. Zalmon refused to look at him. He knew it was because of what happened after the dragon died. 

He was only half listening to Galmar yell at him about disappearing in the middle of the night to hunt dragons alone. 

He still didn't know why he agreed so readily to run off alone with Zalmon to hunt dragons and it bothered him. 

He also didn't know why he was so upset about Zalmon's wariness. He should be just as wary of the man. But it just made feel more drawn towards the Dragonborn. 

His cook, Sifnar, carried a plate of food and a bottle of wine towards the stairs up to Zalmon's chambers and then realized he had not seen the elf eat since he arrived in Windhelm. A faint worry clawed at his mind. 

Galmar realized Ulfric wasn't listening and stormed off. 

"Jarl Ulfric?" Jorleif approached him. "It appears that the Dragonborn has found The Butcher." 

"Well take care of it then," Ulfric watched as Sifnar returned, only missing the bottle of wine and part of an Eidar cheese wheel. 

He rose and made his way towards the stairs, taking an apple with him as he passed.


	15. Zalmon

Zalmon-

 

Zalmon pulled the wine cork out with his teeth while reading the spell book on Invisibility he had bought up at the College. 

He mouthed the words silently to himself. He wanted to learn this before going after his first contracts. He had learned early on that being an illusionist came in handy as an assassin. 

A soft knock at the door caused him to freeze. 

"Dragonborn?" Ulfric's voice came from the other side of the door. 

He sighed and poured an unhealthy amount of wine down his throat and threw the door open, "Huh?" 

He realized too late that his just was just wearing a pair of leather pants, half of the armor set he got from the Thieves Guild all that time ago. 

The Jarl's eyes scanned the many brutal scars and marks along his torso. 

He found himself hoping for either Sanguine or Sheogorath to appear and take him away for one of their 'games' like they often did. 

But none of his Daedra masters appeared to rescue him. In fact he was sure they were watching on in amusement. 

"My Jarl?" Zalmon asked quietly. 

"I noticed you haven't been eating," Ulfric tried to meet his eyes but Zalmon looked at the wall. 

"I'm fine," Zalmon lied and hoped his stomach wouldn't chose this moment to protest. 

He was once again unlucky as his stomach groaned at soon as the words left his mouth. 

Ulfric just raised an eyebrow and offered a deep red apple. 

"Thanks," Zalmon took the apple and bit into it. He quickly took another drink of wine. 

He stepped aside and allowed the Jarl to enter his room. 

The Jarl looked around and looked at all the full and empty bottles of wine laying around. 

"I like wine," Zalmon shrugged and sat back down at the desk. 

"I noticed," the Jarl took one of the chairs and dragged it over to sit across from Zalmon. 

Zalmon focused on his wine and drank heavily from the bottle. 

"Look at me," Ulfric requested quietly. 

Zalmon stayed quiet and still refused to look at the Jarl. 

"Dragonborn," Ulfric sighed. 

"I would have killed you," Zalmon whispered. "I wanted to. You were just standing there, pinned with dragon fear. And...and I was more dragon than person..." 

Ulfric was silent for a long time. 

Zalmon finished his bottle of wine and set it by several others on the desk. 

"You shouldn't drink on an empty stomach," Ulfric frowned. 

Zalmon barked out a humorless laugh, "I learned this from a good friend." 

Ulfric just continued to frown. 

Zalmon finally looked up at the man and met his eyes. 

Ulfric's face softened and he smiled, "Thank you." 

"You pretend to be big and bad. You act fearless and tough. You're actually not," Zalmon smiled. 

Ulfric laughed. 

Zalmon decided he liked Ulfric's laugh and aimed to be the cause of it more often. 

The Jarl's eyes fell on the open strongbox of divine amulets. 

Zalmon followed his line of sight and reached over to lock the small, steel box. He noticed that several Daedric artifacts were lying out around the room and hoped that Ulfric either didn't notice them or didn't recognize them. 

"Which divines do you worship?" Ulfric asked. 

"All of them," Zalmon answered and crossed his arms. 

Ulfric nodded. 

Before he could ask Zalmon sighed, "Yes, even Talos." 

Ulfric was clearly surprised at that, "But you're-" 

"Not Altmer. Or a member of the Thalmor. I take help wherever I can," Zalmon shrugged. 

Ulfric went silent again then whispered, "What does it feel like? To take a dragon's soul?" 

Zalmon looked down at his hands, playing with Namira's ring on his finger, "It's...hot. And cold. It's like being thrown into ice water and fire all at once. It brings immense relief to a hunger I never notice until I'm feeding it. I feel my very soul bending and reshaping to accommodate the dragon's." He chuckled. "Kyne is a cruel mistress." 

"I'm suddenly very grateful you are Dragonborn and not me," Ulfric said. 

Zalmon laughed, "I would be too." 

Ulfric reached over and grabbed a bottle of Argonian wine, popping it open and handing it to Zalmon. 

Zalmon took a large drink of the bitter wine, offering it back to Ulfric. He laughed again when the Jarl grimaced at the bitter taste.


	16. Ulfric

Ulfric-

 

"Why would you drink that?" Ulfric glared at the offending blue bottle. 

Zalmon was smiling at him, "I grew up on it. That and Skooma. I had Argonian and Khajiit caretakers. They taught me almost everything I know about stealth and magic." 

"What about your parents?" Ulfric regretted it immediately when Zalmon's face darkened. 

"They abandoned me when I was young," he sneered. 

"I'm sorry," Ulfric said softly. 

"Don't you have more important things to do than day drink with a pathetic former hero?" Zalmon took a drink of the disgusting wine. 

"Former?" Ulfric cocked his head. 

"Alduin is dead, the dragons will die without him," Zalmon shrugged. 

"You're still the last Dragonborn," Ulfric protested. "You single handedly killed the world eater!" 

"No. Not single handed," Zalman sighed. "I had help from a friend. One I wronged and am not sure will forgive me... But you're still the Jarl. You should be on a throne, or winning a war. Not day drinking with me." 

He had a point. But at the same time, Ulfric felt happier up here with Zalmon than he did standing around a war table. 

He looked around the room once more and noticed an odd soul gem in the shape of a star. 

When Zalmon followed his eyes he cursed under his breath and grabbed the star. 

Ulfric stared at the star as Zalmon twirled it in his fingers. He then noted a gold ring on the elf's finger that gave him a sick feeling. 

"I have never seen a soul gem like that," Ulfric said. 

"It's...Azura's. I helped her cleanse it of the corrupt soul of a man who aimed to live forever. She then let me keep the star as a reusable soul gem," Zalmon chewed on his lip. 

"Azura? The Daedra?" Ulfric felt a bit furious about the thought of Zalmar slumming with Daedra. 

"The Queen of Dawn and Dusk," Zalmon smiled down at the star. 

"And that ring?" Ulfric had a feeling it was also Daedric. 

Zalmon went silent and just stared at the ring. 

"Well?" Ulfric demanded. 

"Namira. The Lady of Decay," the elf whispered. 

"Any others I should be aware of?" Ulfric didn't know why he was so angry. The elf could do whatever he wanted. 

Zalmon held up his other hand, a silver ring with a wolf carved into it sat snugly on his finger, "Hircine, Lord of the Hunt." 

Ulfric consciously tried to calm himself down as Zalmon continued. 

A stitched together book was held up, "Hermaeus Mora, Keeper of Forbidden Knowledge."

"How many Daedras do you serve?" Ulfric asked. 

"...all of them," Zalmon replied after a brief hesitation. 

"And you have gifts from them all?" Ulfric's heart was racing with anger he still didn't understand. 

"Not gifts...more like...reminders," Zalmon reached over and gently picked up a staff with three screaming faces formed at the end. A soft smile formed on his face as he remembered something from the past. "Sheogorath, Prince of Madness. He gave me the Wabbajack while inside Pelagius's mind." 

"Pelagius the Mad?" Ulfric asked. 

"The one and only," Zalmon chuckled. "Oh they don't call Sheogorath the Prince of Madness for nothing." 

The anger receded from Ulfric and he relaxed, "What other...reminders do you have?" 

"I have the the Sanguine Rose," Zalmon said and pointed to a curved, natural looking staff with a blooming rose on the top. 

"The Lord of Revelry," Ulfric supplied. 

Zalmon nodded, "Me and him got into a drinking contest in Solitude. I was determined to win, and imagine my surprise when after only three drinks I wake up in the Temple of Dibella in Markarth. With no memory of what happened the night before. So I follow my tracks back, I sold a goat to a giant as a bride by the way, all the way back to Sanguine. Who was playing a prank on me the whole time. It was actually quite fun." 

Ulfric just listened quietly as Zalmon reached for another artifact.


	17. Zalmon

Zalmon-

 

After telling Ulfric the stories behind how he met all of his Daedra masters they sat for a while in comfortable silence. Until another knock at the door drew their attention. 

They realized they had been talking all day and the sun was long gone from the sky. 

Zalmon opened the door do a very exasperated guard. 

"Hmm?" He tilted his head. 

"Friend of yours?" She stepped aside to reveal Cosnach. 

"Hello, Zal," Cosnach smiled warmly. 

"I sent that letter last night! How did you get here so fast?" Zalmon happily hugged his friend. 

"Courier was in a hurry to please the Dragonborn, and I got on the fastest horse here. I was actually only at your house in the Pale," Cosnach hugged him tightly. 

"Why were you at the manor? Heljarchen Hall to be exact. Lakeview is much warmer and more complete," Zalmon looked at his friend. Still wearing the Ebony armor Zalmon had crafted for him when he got frustrated with the leather armor he always wore. 

"I was looking for you," Cosnach sighed. "I wanted to apologize for how I acted. Of course you had to go." 

Zalmon lead his friend into his room where the Jarl still lounged by his desk, studying the Daedric artifacts but still refusing to touch them. 

"My Jarl," Zalmon cleared his throat. 

Ulfric rose and faced the two men, "I should go, Dragonborn. It was nice to speak with you." He stopped and the door and handed his axe to Zalmon. "I would like you to take this to Whiterun." 

With that he left, closing the door behind him. 

"Cold bastard, huh?" Cosnach teased and grabbed the half empty bottle of wine Ulfric had been drinking.


	18. Ulfric

Ulfric- 

 

Sitting on the edge of his bed he sighed. The blonde man that had shown up was obviously very dear to Zalmon and he couldn't help the rising jealousy. 

They had flowed together, like two soldiers who had fought together for a long time and knew how the other moved. He wanted to see them fight together. 

The image of Zalmon on top of that dragon came to mind. The way he moved was graceful and calculated. After sitting and talking for hours with Zalmon with no shirt on he could only imagine how his muscles moved in a fight. 

He knew the elf preferred stealth and imagined him sneaking into a room of men and leaving them all dead, never being seen. He had, after all managed to sneak to his throne in a relatively open room. 

The only time he heard the elf before seeing him was when he returned with the crown. His footsteps sluggish and loud. 

He remembered the cold fear in his chest when he thought Zalmon would die. He thought it was because he didn't want to lose the Dragonborn. But he didn't want to lose Zalmon. 

The elf with the dragon eyes. The elf that changed his entire demeanor in seconds. The elf that wore his emotions in his eyes. The elf that sold himself to every Daedra known. The elf Ulfric Stormcloak was falling for.


	19. Zalmon

Zalmon-

 

For weeks he was able to keep his lives as a Dark Brotherhood assassin and a Stormcloak soldier secret from each other, with the help of Cosnach of course. 

But then came the contract. Kill the Emperor. 

He sat in Hjerim, which he had bought once Cosnach decided to stay. Ulfric seems a little disappointed that he wasn't staying at the palace. 

A fire roared and Calder, yet another housecarl, brought him another bottle of wine. He had been drinking and kicking himself for taking the contract. 

Cosnach was sitting next to him, his face in his hands, "Why, why did you take this contract? Of all the contracts, this is the one you agree to?" 

"I don't think you should do it, my Thane," Calder offered, 

"Yes, I know. None of us think I should do it. We are in agreement. But can we also agree that it would be unwise to betray a tight knit family of assassins?" Zalmon snapped. 

"Can't you just, I don't know, kill them?" Cosnach asked. 

"I can't...I've grown fond of most of them," he said, twisting Hircine's ring on his finger and thinking of Arnbjorn, bleeding out in Dawnstar.

A sharp knock at the door shut all three men's mouths. 

Calder left to answer the door then led Ulfric and Galmar back to them. 

Cosnach watched the men lazily from his position on the bench, directly beside Zalmon. 

His highly perceptive eyes didn't miss the way Ulfric's jaw tensed at the sight of their legs touching. He just bowed his head, "My Jarl?" 

"I would like to speak with you, Dragonborn," Ulfric stood tall and observed the mismatched, and mostly stolen, decor. 

"Yeah, sure," Zalmon had grown more comfortable with Ulfric since their talk about the Daedra. 

Once they were alone, upstairs, Ulfric's watched out the window, "You consider me your friend, right? Not just your Jarl?"

"Of course!" Zalmon said. 

"Then why," Ulfric finally looked at him, "did I just now learn you were a member of the Dark Brotherhood?" 

Zalmon went cold, "The Dark Brotherhood..." 

"Yes," Ulfric stared him down. Anger and betrayal swirling in his eyes. 

Zalmon was at a loss for words, he felt like he could Shout this house apart. Instead he just whispered, "I am so sorry..."

Ulfric snarled, "You're sorry?! This whole time you tell me you're fighting for Skyrim when you're killing her people!" 

Zalmon was taller than Ulfric but still felt tiny as the Jarl towered over him, yelling.

"I..." Zalmon's defense trailed off. 

"You what?" Ulfric now stood only inches away from Zalmon, anger falling off him in waves. 

"I hoped I could be done with them before you found out," Zalmon whispered, horrified. 

"So you never planned on actually telling me?" Ulfric sounded so hurt and betrayed that it hurt Zalmon's heart. 

Before he could reply Ulfric's mouth crashed against his, and his hands held his head in place. 

Zalmon let out a surprised sound before willingly opening his mouth for the Jarl. 

Ulfric spun them around and pinned him to the wall. 

Zalmon arched against the shorter Nord and whined when Ulfric pulled away. 

"I care for you. Deeply," Ulfric whispered. "You have not only helped my cause but became a very dear friend. That night, with the dragon, you made me feel more alive than I did planning war strategies. And after you were so honest about the Daedra...I knew you would become a very good friend. I knew that I was going to love you." 

Zalmon was taken aback by the confession. 

"So when I heard that you were a member of the Dark Brotherhood, and had been for as long as you have fought for me. I was hurt. I felt deeply betrayed by someone I thought I could trust with my life," Ulfric was looking past him, out the window. 

"You can," Zalmon whispered. "I would die for you, Ulfric." 

Ulfric met his eyes when his name was used. 

"I have killed for you. If I couldn't convince Balgruuf I would have still helped take Whiterun," Zalmon brought one hand up from Ulfric's hip to softly touch his jaw, tracing faint scars with his fingertips. "I took all of those forts, conquered Holds, before I would even glance at a contract. You and the war always come first." 

Ulfric closed his eyes and rested his head against Zalmon's, "Please tell me you are done with the Brotherhood." 

"Not yet," Zalmon felt his jaw clench under his fingers. "Just a few more contracts." 

"Zalmon," Ulfric sighed. 

He had only heard the Jarl use his name once before and it made him immediately delighted. He leaned forward and softly nipped Ulfric's nose, "Then I can be you're assassin. Every king needs an assassin." 

Ulfric chuckled, "A few more contracts." 

"Did I also tell you I refused any contract that worked against you?" Zalmon smiled at the surprised look on Ulfric's face. 

They were still pressed together when someone cleared their throat. 

Both men jumped and looked over to see an incredibly amused Cosnach watching them. 

"Yes?" Zalmon held Ulfric in place when he felt him start to pull away. 

"Your bear friend left, I think I annoyed him," Cosnach looked increasingly pleased with himself. 

"Good, I didn't want him here anyway, he'd snoop," Zalman smiled and Cosnach left to go back downstairs, leading Calder down as well when he started up the steps. 

He turned back to Ulfric's amused and affectionate gaze. 

"Come back to the palace," Ulfric kissed the claw marks along his jaw. 

Zalmon hummed, "People would talk. But then again, they rarely do little else." 

"I don't care what people say, I want you close at hand," he said and continued do to kiss the scars across Zalmon's face. "Tell me how you gained these." 

"Most of my scars are from dragons," Zalmon rested his head against the wall, baring his throat to Ulfric, who wasted no time leaning down and biting. 

Zalmon jerked and hissed under Ulfric, digging his fingers into the Nord's hips. 

Ulfric chuckled and soothed the bite with his tongue, "All of them can't be from dragons." 

"Well, ah, there's the one on my chest were Cosnach stabbed me," Zalmon offered. 

"Your closest friend stabbed you?" Ulfric tensed. 

"Ooh protective," Zalmon teased. "Yes but he was under the influence of Molag Bal, so I don't hold a grudge." 

Ulfric's hand gripped the back of his neck, "Molag Bal."

"I thought you were over the whole Daedra thing," he massaged circles into Ulfric's hips. 

"I...am," Ulfric nodded and brought his mouth back down to his. 

"Mm," Zalmon hummed. "This is why I can't live with you, I distract you." 

Ulfric smiled, "You do." 

"Go back to the palace, I'm going to go finish my work for the Brotherhood," Zalmon easily slipped away from Ulfric and grinned back at him before vanishing into a room.


	20. Ulfric

Ulfric-

 

Ulfric stood outside Hjerim, his furs drawn close, and knocked. 

Cosnach opened the door a few moments later, "He isn't back yet." 

Ulfric furrowed his brow, "It's been over two weeks, aren't you worried?"

"Of course, but take it from someone who tried, you can't find him if you sold yourself to one of his Daedra," Cosnach crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

Ulfric sighed and ran a gloved hand over his face, "We could take Solitude, if we just had him here." 

Cosnach sighed, "Come on, Zal would be furious if I let you freeze to death." 

Ulfric stepped inside the house and sat in front of the warm fire, "The palace seems so quiet without him." 

"So does the house," Cosnach took a swig of wine and watched the flickering flames. 

They both just sat, watching the flames until Cosnach spoke up, "You act like you only want him here to win a war. Act like that and he's bound to believe it." 

Ulfric looked over at the drunk. 

"Don't only say you need him to take a hold," Cosnach looked down at the wine. "Say it too much and he won't believe you want him for any other reason." 

Ulfric looked back to the fire. 

The front door slammed open and both men leapt to their feet, weapons drawn. They moved to the next room to see a furious and bloody Zalmon. 

"Fucking Astrid and her fucking shit," he kicked the door closed and limped inside, taking the wine from Cosnach's hand. "That fucking bitch can rot. I mean I didn't attack her fucking husband, why the fuck did she sell me out." 

"Zal?" Cosnach offered a healing potion. 

"I mean honestly, SHE SENT ME INTO A TRAP! I almost died," Zalmon growled. "I mean Solitude is hard to break into and even harder to break out of." 

"Still got the job done though, but now it's just me, Nazir, and Bab," Zalmon fell into a chair. "Astrid fucking killed everyone else. Oh by the fucking way, since I am the 'Listener' I am the fucking leader of the Dark Brotherhood." 

Ulfric just watched the man drink his wine and ignore the potion. 

"Maybe I shouldn't have killed Cicero, I mean yeah he was absolutely mad but hey, I do serve the Prince of Madness," Zalmon's voice and quieted down and now he was speaking in a furious whisper. 

"Zal," Cosnach looked exasperated, "I'm going to bed. Drink your potion." 

With that Ulfric was left alone with the fuming elf.

"You were gone for a long time," Ulfric sat beside him. "If you waited we would already have Solitude-" 

"Oh no of fucking course, I should have waited to win your war for you!" Zalmon snapped, turning dragon eyes on him. 

Ulfric sighed, "That isn't what I meant." 

Zalmon just watched him. 

"It would have been safer for you if it was Stormcloak soldiers and not Imperials," Ulfric reached over and brushed his thumb against a pointed ear. 

"The Stormcloaks would have sat by and allowed me to kills the Emperor?" Zalmon whispered softly. 

Ulfric didn't answer him, just continued to massage his ear. 

After some time Zalmon stood and moved to sit in Ulfric's lap, burying his face in the warm furs. 

Ulfric ignored the blood that was surely staining the fur and just wrapped his arms around the elf. 

"You love me," Zalmon whispered, sounding a little amazed. 

"With all my heart," Ulfric tightened his arms around Zalmon. 

"Why?" Zalmon asked. "I'm just an assassin." 

"No, you aren't," Ulfric rested his head on Zalmon's. "You are strong and right from the beginning you told me how it was, regardless of my status as Jarl. I admired that."

"That's it? Because I can't hold my tongue?" Zalmon looked up. 

"There were many other reasons as well," Ulfric kissed his nose. "More than I wish to spend the time listing." 

"Only three people have actually ever loved me for me," Zalmon frowned. "Daro'Nassa, Milrava, and Cosnach. Two of those people are dead." 

"Four people," Ulfric corrected. 

Zalmon smiled and rested his head back against Ulfric. 

Thinking back to their fight against a dragon, something bothered him, "What was that Shout? The one you used to bring the dragon down?"

"Dragonrend, I learned it for my fight with Alduin, I also used it to trap Odahviing in Dragonsreach. Riinax planned to flee, so I made sure he couldn't," Zalmon shrugged. 

"Riinax?" Ulfric didn't think that dragon ever said its name. 

"He said it once during the fight but even if he didn't, I would have gained that knowledge with his soul," Zalmon replied. 

His fingers ran across Zalmon's, tracing the small wolf's head ring, "Hircine is the God or the Hunt. He is popular with hunters and werewolves. Which are you?" 

"Ah, I was waiting for that question. Both actually, the ring gives me more control over my transformations," Zalmon clung to Ulfric's furs. 

"I am not upset," Ulfric said, feeling the tension in Zalmon's body. "I was simply curious." 

"Well don't ask about Namira's ring, you won't like that answer," Zalmon whispered. 

Ulfric believed him, he had done research on the Lady of Decay and found the cult of cannibals out in the Reach. 

Zalmon's breathing slowed as he drifted off, still holding tightly to Ulfric. 

Ulfric easily stood and carried the elf. Zalmon may have been taller but he was also a rogue, so his was rather small. 

Calder emerged from one of the rooms and pointed him to Zalmon's. 

He set the drowsy elf of the bed and started removing his armor. There weren't many straps so it was rather simple to undo the red and black, shrouded armor. 

Once Zalmon was just in the pants of his gear, Ulfric stood and turned to leave.

Zalmon mumbled and reached for his wrist, fingers just barely reaching, "Stay." 

Ulfric smiled at the elf and stroked his hair, "I can't." 

"Please? Put your war on hold for just one night," Zalmon buried his face in his pillow. 

Deciding the war could wait, Ulfric removed at much armor as he dared. Until he was in a similar state as Zalmon. 

Once he was lying beside him, Zalmon curled around him and hummed happily.


	21. Zalmon

Zalmon-

 

Having been on the road for so long, Zalmon was a cautious sleeper. So when he heard a soft exhale he jerked up, dagger in hand. 

Next to him Ulfric's eyes shot open and he looked up at Zalmon. 

"Good morning," Ulfric said slowly. 

"Good morning..." Zalmon slid the dagger back under his pillow. 

Ulfric just smiled up at him, "You're still bloody." 

Looking down Zalmon noticed dried blood on his hands, "Oh." 

Ulfric slid out of bed and walked to the wash basin, dipping a cloth in the warm water. 

When the Jarl knelt on the bed and gently took Zalmon's hands. 

Zalmon allowed the man to gently clean his hands, "Did we..?" 

Ulfric chuckled, "No. You came home late, obviously distressed. I assumed you were drunk. We talked and when I put you in bed you asked me to stay. So I did." 

Zalmon let out a breath and his shoulders visibly relaxed, "Good." 

"Good?" Ulfric raised an eyebrow. 

Zalmon leaned forward and whispered in Ulfric's ear, "If you are going to bed me, I want to remember it." 

Ulfric stalled and turned to look at him. 

Zalmon slid out of bed, taking the washcloth with him to the basin. He could feel Ulfric's eyes watching his back as he gingerly washed burns and cuts along his arms and chest. 

"You are clearly a warrior," Zalmon laughed when he heard the heavy footsteps approach him. 

Ulfric didn't say anything, just carefully brushed his fingers across the harsh burns on his back. 

Zalmon automatically kept himself from wincing. 

"What happened?" Ulfric whispered. 

Zalmon winced and growled when he pressed too hard against a burn on his chest. 

Ulfric easily took the cloth out of his hands and turned him around, dropping the rag in the bloody water, "Zalmon."

Memories of the Sanctuary burning. His family dying at the hands of the Imperials. The Imperials that Astrid sent. 

He realized he was digging his nails into Ulfric's arm and growling. He released his grip on his arm, "Sorry." 

Ulfric didn't seem to notice, "What happened?" 

Zalmon knew he wouldn't give up. So he took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, "She sent me to kill the Emperor. In Solitude. Only it wasn't the Emperor. They knew I was coming. They knew she would send me. She betrayed me. She betrayed our family!"

"I ran home. As fast as I could. Soldiers following closely. I didn't stop, I didn't sleep, until I got back to Falkreath. The Sanctuary was on fire. The door had been destroyed. My Brothers and Sisters were dying around me. I still pushed through, killing any Imperial," he spat the word, "I came across. I made it to the Night Mother and I was trapped. I would have died."

"I hid in the Night Mother's coffin. When Nazir and Bab found me it had been a day. Everyone else was dead." He left out the detail of Astrid burned but still alive. "We moved to Dawnstar. I finished the contract. I found the real Emperor. Killed him. And came home." 

Zalmon went quiet, looking over Ulfric's shoulder. 

"I'm sorry," Ulfric said softly. 

"So am I," Zalmon clenched his jaw. 

"By 'she' I assume you mean your leader?" Ulfric rested a calming hand on Zalmon's arm. 

"Astrid, yes," Zalmon nodded. "Now, both Nazir and Bab decided it was me. Because I can hear the Night Mother speak." 

"So my assassin leads the Dark Brotherhood," Ulfric teased. 

A smile tugged at his mouth, "It would appear so." 

"Hey! You both better have pants on! I'm coming in in thirty seconds!" Cosnach shouted from the other side of the door. 

Zalmon shook his head and slipped away from Ulfric. Opening the door to a grinning Cosnach. 

"Wow you look like shit," Cosnach greeted. 

"Like you should talk," Zalmon left the door open and went back into the room. 

"Want me to run to the White Phial?" Cosnach asked as he entered the room. 

"No, it's fine. I'll heal," Zalmon went back to the wash basin and finished cleaning his wounds. 

"Well good cause there was a dragon circling the city earlier and I just convinced the guards not to hunt it down," His friend leaned against the wall. 

Zalmon sighed, "I just can't catch a break, can I?" 

"Nope," Cosnach smiled and left the room again, shutting the door behind him. 

Zalmon leaned against a grinning Ulfric, who wrapped an arm wound him. 

"I don't want to be Dragonborn anymore," Zalmon mumbled to Ulfric's chest.

"Kill the dragon, then come see me," Ulfric played with Zalmon's ears. 

"Yes, sir," Zalmon pulled away and started gathering his armor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are too fluffy and sweet. I rectify that very soon.


	22. Ulfric

Ulfric-

 

Ulfric unwillingly allowed Cosnach and Zalmon go after the dragon alone. He could personally vouch for Zalmon's skills but not Cosnach. 

He sat on his throne thinking about Zalmon's small frame wrapped around his much bigger one. He never would have guessed that Zalmon mutters spells and huffs broken words in dragon-tongue in his sleep. But he does. 

Ulfric rested his head against the throne and forced himself to stop worrying about the elf. He could very clearly handle himself. 

After what seemed like hours of mindless worry and petty talks, a bloody Zalmon swaggered into the palace, grinning like a madman. 

"I assume all went well?" Jorleif asked when he saw the look on Zalmon's face. 

"Very well," Zalmon purred, locking eyes with Ulfric. "You wished to speak to me?"

Dragon eyes. That was all Ulfric could think, was dragon eyes. The image of Zalmon in bed, glowing golden eyes, flashed in his mind and he cleared his throat. Sitting straighter he nodded, "Yes, we have taken control of every major city in every hold. We just need Solitude." 

"Easy," Zalmon shrugged. 

"Easy?" Jorleif and Galmar asked in unison. 

Ulfric understood, "Use you and your...family, to our advantage." 

"Mmhmm," Zalmon nodded. "I could ride ahead to Dawnstar. Get Nazir and Bab, then head to Solitude. Having three trained assassins inside the walls will help immensely. Keep Cosnach with you, he will know what to do." 

"Kill every Imperial we see," Galmar snarled. 

"Oh yeah, you do that. Oh by the way that will most likely kill us three as well," Zalmon glared at Ulfric's housecarl. "Do not make your presence known prematurely. I have openly supported Ulfric but since I am the Dragonborn, I was deemed too dangerous to attack on sight and too  
valuable to forbid my entry. I am the one Stormcloak that can enter the city without any problem." 

Ulfric nodded, "So you and the other two get in. Then what? How will we know when to attack?" 

"Cosnach will know, he knows what to look for," Zalmon's eyes turned warm when they locked with Ulfric's.

Ulfric's chest tightened at the thought of sending Zalmon into the city on his own. He knew it was the best choice, but it didn't stop him from worrying. 

The scene of Zalmon kneeling at the executioner's block played in his head. This time it was in Solitude and Zalmon shouted at him that it was his fault. 

"Ulfric," Zalmon spoke softly from beside him. 

He looked around, realizing that the others had left the hall. Zalmon was the only other person in the room now. 

"If you die..." Ulfric realized how horrified he sounded. 

"I won't. You can't get rid of me that easily," Zalmon smiled crookedly. 

Ulfric squeezed his eyes shut, "Zalmon." 

Gentle hands cupped his jaw and turned his head, "Look at me."

Zalmon rested his forehead against Ulfric's. 

Ulfric took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Soft Amber eyes met his. He smiled sadly, "You are so beautiful." 

Zalmon snorted. 

"I can't stop seeing you dead. And it would be my fault," Ulfric clenched his jaw. 

Zalmon pulled away and perched on the arm of the throne, "I won't die. I promise." He grinned. "If I do then I am haunting you." 

"Not funny," Ulfric grumbled. He'd memorized every detail of the Elf's face over the last few weeks. 

"I should get going, I may be able to reach Dawnstar by tomorrow night," Zalmon sighed. 

Zalmon pushed to his feet and smiled back at Ulfric. When he started walking away, Ulfric grabbed his wrist, pulling him back. 

Before Zalmon could say anything, he was pulled into Ulfric's lap. Ulfric crashed his lips against Zalmon's, holding him tightly. 

Zalmon easily straddled Ulfric's hips. He willingly opened his mouth for Ulfric's tongue to push in and explore. 

Zalmon broke away to breathe and Ulfric dove in, biting and licking Zalmon's throat. 

Ulfric let his hands slide down Zalmon's side and rest on his hips. 

"Ulfric," Zalmon breathed. "Dawnstar." 

"Can wait," Ulfric growled. 

Zalmon whined and turned to look at the guards still standing by the door. 

"Come to bed with me," Ulfric rolled his hips up against Zalmon's. 

Zalmon moaned and tightened his grip on Ulfric's shoulders, "I..." 

Without waiting for a reply, Ulfric picked the elf up with one arm and carried him through the palace. He never took Zalmon for shy, but when he started moaning loudly Ulfric pressed their mouths together. 

"Ulfric," Zalmon whined when Ulfric pressed him against the door to his room. 

Ulfric balanced the elf against the door and his hips. He opened the door and both men fell inside, landing on the floor with a thud. 

Zalmon started laughing and he grinned up at Ulfric, "Smooth." 

Ulfric chuckled and rested his head on Zalmon's shoulder, "It has been a while." 

"I see," Zalmon chuckled and nuzzled Ulfric's cheek. 

Ulfric pushed up to his feet and offered his hand to the grinning elf. Zalmon happily took the hand and allowed Ulfric to pull him to his feet. 

Zalmon reached behind him to shut the door. He suddenly froze, "Have you ever slept with a man?" 

"I...have not..." Ulfric admitted.

Zalmon took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay, well uh..." He rubbed the back of his head and smiled. "We need oil. Or grease. I'm not picky." 

Ulfric nodded, "I'm not sure where we could-"

Zalmon cut him off, "I'll be right back." 

He slipped out the door, leaving Ulfric standing alone in his room. 

Ulfric sat on the bed and removed his boots. He removed his gloves and furs. He sat on the bed in only his leather pants and waited on the elf. 

Soon enough Zalmon stepped back into the room. He had a small clear bottle in his hand. 

"Ran home, grabbed this," Zalmon tossed it to him and set to work on removing his own armor. 

"You were barely gone five minutes," Ulfric held the little bottle in his hands. 

"I am just that good," Zalmon winked and when his hands went for the straps of his pants, Ulfric reached out to stop him. 

Zalmon easily dropped his hands and allowed Ulfric to pull him closer. He unclasped the belts on the other's pants. 

Once Zalmon was standing before him, completely naked, he finally took the time to appreciate every inch of the elf. 

He noticed small scars alongside large ragged ones. His chest was littered with burns and several marks that Ulfric didn't recognize.

Zalmon stood still and smiled. He watched Ulfric's face as his fingertips traced the swirling black marks on his chest and sides. 

As his hands reached Zalmon's hips he finally met the elf's eyes. He closed his hand around Zalmon's cock and watched his eyes flutter shut. 

"Ulfric," Zalmon whined. 

Ulfric nuzzled Zalmon's hip and kissed the soft skin. He left little marks along Zalmon's hips, slowly stroking his cock. 

Zalmon started mumbling in dragon-tongue. His words seemed broken and incoherent. 

Ulfric smiled up at the elf, "I very much enjoy listening to you speak in dragon." 

Zalmon chuckled, "Glad you-" loud moan "-approve." 

Ulfric slid from the bed and onto his knees. Taking a deep breath, he tentatively flicked his tongue against the head of Zalmon's cock. He wrapped his mouth along the head and slowly moved further down the elf's length. 

Zalmon growled softly. His eyes only slightly glowing for a split second. He then closed his eyes and moaned, carding his fingers through Ulfric's hair. 

Ulfric went as far as he could without choking. The second he did Zalmon instantly drew back. 

"Ulfric..." Zalmon's fingers tightened in his hair. 

Ulfric understood Zalmon's warning but didn't move back. Instead he swirled his tongue around the elf, effectively making the elf tense. 

Zalmon pulled his hair almost painfully and hissed. His eyes flashed as he came. 

Ulfric drew back slightly and swallowed, which easier than he thought, licking Zalmon clean. 

When he stood Zalmon leaned heavily against him, mumbling, "You're sure you've never done that before?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Ulfric smiled and wrapped his arms around Zalmon. 

He almost forgot his own erection, until nimble fingers quickly undid his pants. Zalmon's unusually warm hand wrapped around his cock. 

Ulfric moaned and softly bit Zalmon's shoulder. 

It didn't take long before he was tensing and moaning Zalmon's name as he came. 

Zalmon sat him on the bed and grabbed a cloth, cleaning them up. 

"Looks like we didn't need the oil in the first place," Zalmon teased. 

Ulfric chuckled and threw the furs laid out on his bed back. Zalmon looked slightly torn, standing beside the bed, so Ulfric grabbed him and dragged him down into bed. 

Zalmon curled around him again and rested his head on Ulfric's chest. 

Ulfric held the elf tightly against him until the muttered spells and dragon words were all he heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things got too fluffy sooo...


	23. Zalmon

Zalmon-

 

Zalmon huffed and arched his back, stretching out. 

Ulfric groaned next to him and swatted his hands away, rolling over to sleep.

Zalmon just laid, smiling over at the Nord. 

"Be quiet," Ulfric mumbled. 

"I didn't say anything," Zalmon arched his brow. 

"You thought about it," Ulfric huffed. 

"Vir vis hi kos ful bek, Dii?" Zalmon smirked. 

He remembered Ulfric voicing how much he enjoyed Zalmon speaking Dovahzul last night. He wasn't disappointed when Ulfric moaned into his pillow. 

"Fosro folaas, Dii?" A smirk was firmly planted on Zalmon's face. 

Ulfric's breath picked up and he turned his head to face the elf, squinting, "You're an asshole." 

Zalmon laughed, "Hi lokaal daar, Dii. Onvok nii." He was doubled over, laughing, and didn't notice Ulfric prop himself up. 

Ulfric tackled him to the bed, pinning him to the bed and straddling his hips. 

"Nu nu, Dii. Nid praag wah kos haalvut," he winked and rolled his hips up against Ulfric's. 

"I want to kiss you but I don't want you to stop speaking," Ulfric and Zalmon set a rhythm, rocking their hips together. 

"Vesey doesn't lost wah kos nau kroslen, Dii," Zalmon bared his throat to Ulfric. 

The Nord seemed to understand and leaned down to kiss Zalmon's neck. 

Zalmon scratched down Ulfric's back and whined, "Dii." 

Ulfric left small bite marks on the Elf's shoulders and neck. 

Zalmon trashed under the Nord, "Zu'u los ful strin, Dii. dreh ni vuth." 

Nails digging into Ulfric's shoulders, he arched and shouted, "Dii!" 

Ulfric tensed and came immediately after Zalmon. He relaxed and rested his head against Zalmon. 

Zalmon chuckled, "If I knew your love for Dovahzul sooner then I would have had a lot more fun. Oh well, plenty of time to make it up to you." 

Ulfric groaned and shook his head, "If you're thinking what I am, please don't." 

"Too late, Dii," Zalmon winked. 

"Dii? You've said it several times, what does it mean?" Ulfric rolled off Zalmon. 

"Dii, mine," Zalmon rolled onto his side and splayed his hand over Ulfric's heart. "Dii." 

"Your's," Ulfric bowed his head and brought Zalmon's hand to his lips. 

Zalmon moved closer and curled around Ulfric, "We should get up and get cleaned up." 

"We should," Ulfric agreed. 

Neither men moved. 

They stayed silent for a long time, Ulfric's fingers tracing all the marks on Zalmon's body. When Ulfric finally spoke he was tracing the swirling black lines on Zalmon's side. 

"What are these for?" Ulfric asked.

"It's a long story," Zalmon his his face in Ulfric's chest. 

"We have some time before I have to get up," Ulfric prompted. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." 

"I do...it's just..." Zalmon trailed off. 

"You think I'll be upset?" Ulfric asked softly. 

Zalmon stayed silent. 

"Zalmon..." Ulfric sighed. 

A sharp knock at the door, "Jarl Ulfric! There's a thief awaiting your judgement. A Khajiit." 

"Go figure," Ulfric sighed and looked like he immediately regretted it. "That's not-" 

"No. It's fine, Jarl. I should get ready to go to Dawnstar," Zalmon easily pulled away. He quick led cleaned himself up and slipped his pants on. Buckling them as he opened the door. 

He glared at the guard and she didn't try and stop him. 

"Zalmon!" Ulfric shouted after him. 

He just kept walking, gearing up as he walked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zalmon refuses to deal with subtle racism. Also- https://www.thuum.org/translate.php if you wish to translate what Zalmon said.


	24. Cosnach

Cosnach-

 

Cosnach was lounging in front of the fire when the door slammed open and closed. He jumped and turned to see Zalmon, clearly fuming. 

"Oo do rahlo nii lost Kaaz! Fos voz! Certainly ni Bron!" Zalmon snarled. 

"Woah woah woah! Zal! Cool off, Brother. I would rather the house not be resident of all the dragons in Skyrim," Cosnach jogged over to him and stopped him. 

Some of the straps of his gear were laced improperly, like he was in a hurry. 

"I figured you would have already been on your way to Dawnstar," Cosnach ignored the primal fear in his gut and gripped the Elf's shoulders. 

His hands sparked as he sneered, "I spent the night with Ulfric." 

"And that's bad because..?" Cosnach was confused. "I thought you two were..." 

"It's bad because he's still a racist fuck!" Zalmon snarled, eyes glowed brightly. He was clearly furious. 

Cosnach was more than used to calming the Elf when he was angry. They had been friends for a long time. 

"Zal, Brother, come on. Tell me what happened," Cosnach knew better than to coddle and speak softly. He learned that early on. 

Zalmon was nearly shaking, sharp dragon-like fangs dug into his lip, "I'll krii mok. Rok nunon nis frolok ustiid-" 

Cosnach snapped an inch away from his face, drawing his attention, "Zal. Calm down." 

Zalmon squinted at him. 

"Why don't you head to Dawnstar? Have some time alone for a bit?" Cosnach smiled and rubbed his arm.

Zalmon nodded and tried to undo the straps of his armor with shaky fingers. 

Cosnach stilled his hands and easily opened the armor, dropping it on the floor beside them. Once Zalmon was bare chested he stared at the big, ugly scar right beside his heart. 

The danger had an ice enchantment and had burned the flesh surrounding the stab wound. There was one clean stab mark, as Zalmon insisted on keeping their weapons sharp, and it was surrounded by improperly healed burns. The skin was tight and it still hurt Cosnach to look at. 

He snapped out of it and grabbed the shrouded armor from its hidden place, helping Zalmon gear up. 

"You know the plan?" Zalmon asked as he covered his face with the masked hood. 

"Wait a few days and then head to Solitude," Cosnach repeated and handed Zalmon he many daggers and poisons. 

"Good, I'll see you on the other side, Zeymah," Zalmon hugged him. 

Cosnach hugged him back. 

Zalmon nodded and was gone. 

"See you on the other side, Zeymah," he repeated to the empty house.


	25. Zalmon

Zalmon- 

 

Zalmon jogged down the stairs, Bab following him. 

"Nazir, I need to ask a favor," Zalmon asked and sat on the table Nazir was sitting at. 

"Yes, Brother?" Nazir leaned back in his chair. 

"Help me take Solitude from the inside. We would help the Rebels discretely from inside the walls," Zalmon said.

"You are pretty open about your fondness of Stormcloak," Nzair pointed out. 

Tensing his jaw slightly, "Yes but I am both Thane of Solitude and the Dovahkiin." 

Nazir nodded, "What's in it for us?"

"I keep Ulfric from...disbanding us," Zalmon offered. "I already used the money I earned from my last contract to completely redo this place. Please Nazir? Bab already agreed." 

"I like Zalmon," the little vampire girl shrugged. 

"I see no reason to not help," Nazir stood. "I presume we leave immediately?" 

"You are correct," Zalmon said and lead them from the Sanctuary. Ignoring how close Nazir was to him.


	26. Ulfric

Ulfric- 

 

They waited almost a week before following Zalmon to Solitude. Ulfric didn't like leaving him without help for so long. He also didn't like how they parted ways. 

Cosnach had been colder towards him as well. Shooting angry glances his way as they traveled. 

They remained hidden once they were near Solitude, as per Zalmon's orders. 

After a few hours a young girl walked into camp and hugged Cosnach. They both seemed genuinely happy to see each other as they conversed in hushed whispers. 

She smiled and left, heading back towards the city. 

Cosnach walked into their tent then, "You ready to finish this? We storm the gates in ten minutes."


	27. Zalmon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all ready to hate me?

Zalmon-

 

"Well, Bab? What'd Cos have to say?" Zalmon asked from his seat towards the back of The Winking Skeever.

"They are waiting for your signal. I told them ten minutes," The little vampire girl sat beside him.

"Thanks, Bab," Zalmon smiled. "Well I will be off then. Come join us when the fighting starts. Until then, I have an open tab. Being Thane and all."

"I'll make them regret that," Nazir grinned and reached for a bottle of spiced wine.

Zalmon lifted his hood and covered his face.

Heading just outside the walls, he castes muffle and invisibility on himself. He ran down the road to the city and climbed the guard tower. He made it to the top of the guard tower without being seen or having to kill anyone.

Looking out into the woods he saw several Stormcloaks crouton the bushed. He scanned the trees until he saw Cosnach standing with Ulfric and Galmar towards the back.

Cosnach looked up and both men nodded to each other.

Zalmon nocked an arrow and took aim. The arrow flew from his bow and hit a trunk of a tree, just a few inches from Ulfric's head.

He took joy in the shocked look on Galmar and Ulfric's faces. Cosnach was doubled over laughing and pointing him out to the two men.

Zalmon just waved and smiled.

Footsteps behind him drew his attention and he spun around, bow aimed at the stairs.

A guard was casually making his way up the stairs. Zalmon almost felt bad when the arrow hit his heart.

He grabbed the body and hoisted it over the side of the wall. One last nod towards Cosnach and he let the body fall.

Surprised shouts came from the guards below as Stormcloaks poured from the trees.

Zalmon easily picked guards off before they could even begin to register what was happening. He was sure Nazir and Bab had begun fighting inside the city.

"Dragonborn!" Ulfric shouted. "We must get to Tullius!"

Zalmon nodded and lept off the wall, hitting the ground rolling. He rolled until he he was able to jump to his feet and run to meet Ulfric.

He shot only to defend the Jarl, saving his arrows for inside the city.

When they were walking together, Zalmon threw the bow over his shoulder and pulled one of his many hidden dragonbone daggers.

He defended the Jarl from as many blows as he could, ignoring sparks of recognition in some of the guards eyes.

Cosnach was fighting beside Galmar just inside the city. Both men glanced over and moved to clear a path for Zalmon and Ulfric. The two men took down every soldier that tried to stop them as they walked towards Castle Dour, Zalmon easily killing any that got past.

Once inside the Castle Zalmon turned to Cosnach, "Stay here. Don't let anyone past."

"Of course," Cosnach nodded.

Nazir and Bab already killed Rikke. Nazir had a sword pointed at a kneeling Tullius while Bab sat on the war table, swinging her legs and humming.

"Ah, Listener, how nice of you to join us," Nazir greeted.

Bab lept off the table and skipped to Zalmon's side.

He rested his hand between her shoulder blades and smiled down at her, "Having fun, Bab?"

"Oh yes," she beamed, showing off her sharp little teeth.

"Dragonborn, you should kill him, it would make a better tale," Ulfric tried to capture his eyes.

"I agree," Nazir sheathed his sword and hung close to Zalmon.

"I don't see why not," Zalmon drew his sword and crouched in front of the General.

Tullius said something behind the cloth around his mouth. Zalmon ignores do him and sliced his head off.

The body hitting the ground was drown out when the door slammed open.

Everyone had their weapons drawn instantly. They saw Imperials flood the entrance.

Zalmon watched a soldier take Cosnach's legs out with a warhammer, "Cosnach!"

His heart stopped as he saw his best friend hit the floor.

_**Tiid Klo Ul** _

Time slowed around him and he moved to kill everyone in Imperial armor.

Once time moved naturally again Zalmon stood in the center of the room surrounded by bloody bodies of the soldiers.

His breathing was heavy as he dropped down next to Cosnach.

Cosnach struggled to breath and reached for Zalmon.

With shaky fingers he frantically tore off the crushed armor. He throw the armor to the floor and sobbed at the sight of Cosnach's mangled chest.

"Cosnach..." Zalmon sobbed and desperately tried to recall the healing spell he heard at the College.

"Zal..." Cosnach choked and raised a shaky hand to Zalmon's face.

"No, no don't you dare!" Zalmon cried. "You aren't allowed to die!"

"I'm sorry Zal," Cosnach tried to smile but just grimaced. "I never did like rules."

"Nononono," Zalmon was shaking as he held his closest friend against him. "I never should have left you alone in here. I'm so sorry, Cosnach. I'm so sorry."

A bloody cough wracked Cosnach's body, causing him to whimper.

Zalmon held him tightly. The hand on his arm slowly fell and a pained gurgle came from the warrior's throat.

"See you on the other side, Zeymah," Cosnach said weakly, barely audible.

"Zalmon..." A soft voice came from behind him.

He tensed and curled protectively around his friend's body.


	28. Ulfric

Ulfric-

 

He could barely breathe, watching Zalmon curl helplessly around his friend. 

"Zalmon..." He said softly. 

Zalmon tensed and a soft, protective growl left his throat. 

He looked at the others in the room and nodded for them to leave. The two assassins hesitated until Galmar grabbed them and nearly dragged them from the Castle. 

Once alone Ulfric crouched beside the sobbing elf, "Zalmon, I am so sorry." 

"I...I asked him to...to guard the door," Zalmon hiccuped. 

"It's not your fault. We had no way of knowing that they would flood the room like that," He tentatively reached out and touched Zalmon's shoulder. 

Zalmon immediately turned and buried his face in Ulfric's chest. 

Ulfric wrapped his arms around the shaking elf, "Hush, Love. I know it's hard." 

They sat like that until Zalmon stopped crying and was just leaning against him, hands clutching his furs tightly. 

"We won," Zalmon whispered. 

"We did. Because of you, and Cosnach," Ulfric whispered back. 

Zalmon pulled back and looked at him, "I'm sorry...I got your furs bloody." 

"It's not the first time," Ulfric teased. 

Ulfric helped Zalmon to his feet and waited for him to go to the door. 

Instead to reached down and removed an old necklace from Cosnach's neck. It looked like a small, flat piece of silver. An emerald sat in the center, surrounded by what looked like written dragon, like on word walls. 

"I made this for him. We got separated and when I found him he had killed several Drauger. He found this emerald and silver in a pile of loot. I made it for him when we stopped in Riften," Zalmon smiled sadly. "zeymah Zu'u neh laan nuz los frund Zu'u lost. The brother I never wanted but am glad I have." 

Ulfric watched him slip the necklace over his head. 

He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and turned to Ulfric, "Let's go celebrate our win."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I in no way apologize.


	29. Epilogue

Epilogue-

 

Zalmon happily accepted when Ulfric asked him to marry him. What made it better was that they were just laying in bed, Zalmon reading a spellbook and Ulfric reading whatever had his attention at the moment. 

He turned to Zalmon and just said, 'We should get married.' 

Zalmon just laughed and shook his head. He chuckled and agreed. 

Ulfric really wasted no time getting the arrangements together. And even less time getting Zalmon into a temple of Mara. 

It was now six years later. Ulfric was king. Zalmon stood beside him as both his husband and his assassin. 

They still lived in Windhelm. Zalmon left regularly for Dark Brotherhood related things. The only time they left together was for political reasons, or once a year they traveled to Markarth to visit Cosnach's grave. 

Zalmon still refused to take another traveling companion. Continually saying no one would ever have his back like Cosnach did. 

Ulfric would just shake his head and sigh. Never failing to point out Zalmon's stubbornness. 

Regularly they would be in the company of Sanguine and Sheogorath, who were always rather fond of the Dragonborn. Sanguine and Zalmon often played pranks around the anniversary of The Battle of Solitude. 

Zalmon still refused to go anywhere near the city, the one time he did he ended up crying and shaking so hard Ulfric had to carry him back to their carriage. 

Zalmon remained Thane in every hold, even as most Jarls died of old age or disease.

Neither of them either thought they would live long and with someone they loved. Imagine their surprise when they did just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM. My longest story so far. I will complete the next in the series before posting. Same with the next ones.


End file.
